


Keep Calm

by curiouslykate (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/curiouslykate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen seems to get nervous before conventions - not that he'd ever admit to that of course, but Misha picks up on it and decides to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Calm

Jensen really doesn't know how Jared and Misha can still seem so full of energy after a few days of this.

Sure, conventions are fun, meeting the fans, making said fans happy and all that jazz, but really? After just two days, Jensen feels drained and there Mish and Jay are, prancing about like they're on their way to their very first panel, fresh and relaxed and excited like they haven't been there right along with him every step of the way. Then again, those two live off fan interaction – especially Misha – and sometimes Jensen wishes he could be a charmingly insulting ass like Misha or an adorably gangling moose like Jared, but he's just him, and he doesn't.

He guesses that's part of why he's always a little put off or nervous about conventions, he can't see why people would go nuts over hearing him talk about his day to day life when they could have the time of their lives with either Jay or Mish. He guesses that's also why he puts on a little act each time he goes on stage even if he feels a little bad about it; he wants to keep up with those two and give the fans the show they deserve – he wants to show others that he, Jensen Ackles, can be just as funny as the other two and if he sometimes deflects their more personal questions with jokes? Well, they don't need to know that, do they?

Hundreds of screams from crazed fangirls jolt him out of his 'Deep Thought' territory and Jensen looks up just in time to see Jay wrench open the curtains and waltz onto stage with a wave and a happy shout of “Hi y'all!”, leaving Jensen and Misha backstage to wait their turn (or the perfect moment to crash his panel Supernatural style).

He swipes a hand over his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, going over his schedule once again in his head to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything when he feels someone squeeze his knee.

“You look a little tense, you okay?” Misha has his body tilted towards him and a slight frown twists his face.

“What, yeah, yeah I'm fine Mish. Just a headache” Jensen gives Misha's hand – which still rests on his knee – a reassuring pat and stands up, stretching his arms for good measure before wandering further to the back of the small space they have jokingly called the backstage area to get a drink.

“Yeah?” Misha follows him and leans his hip against the wall beside the fridge that keeps their water at a reasonably cool temperature. “And here I thought you were just nervous again”

Jensen snorts “Why would I be nervous”

“You tell me” Misha has his arms folded and his head cocked to the side while his eyes fix Jensen with an all too familiar stare that has him thinking 'goddamn character bleed'. “Y'know you can talk to me right? Me and Jay?”

“Sure” Jensen says with a small grin and lifts his bottle in a silent toast “I'll let the Overlord know if there's anything wrong with one of his faithful subjects”

“I sure hope so” Misha puffs with that small twinkle in his eye he gets whenever someone calls him Overlord and smacks Jensen's arm. But he still gives him one last assessing look before he walks back to his seat.

Jensen lets out a sigh of relief once Misha has his back turned towards him and his head bent over his phone once again. He closes his eyes briefly then squares his shoulders and follows Misha.

***

“Okay, you know what? This is it!” Misha groans after a good twenty minutes of having to watch Jensen fidget in his seat, rubbing his temple and tear at the label on his water bottle all while pretending that what was bothering him wasn't getting worse

“What're you talking about?” Jensen turns his head and eyes him warily as if he expects Misha to start dancing the polka any minute now – which, given his reputation, is not as far fetched as one might think.

“You're nervous” Misha points an accusing finger at him instead.

“No I'm not” Jensen grumbles which pretty much confirms it though and Misha has to fight the grin that wants to split his face in two.

Instead he opts for one of Cas' patented soul searching looks and plucks Jensen's water bottle from his hands. “You only do that when you're nervous.”

“Really?” Jensen lifts an eyebrow and huffs “What if I'm just super excited?”

“Well, doesn't really matter” Misha waves his hand and stands up, grinning from ear to ear. Jensen shudders when he sees that special glint in Misha's eyes that usually signals the beginning of another of those famous pranks of his and sits up in his chair, somehow finding himself unable to move “Either way, we have to calm you down somehow”

Jensen eyes him suspiciously as Misha practically prowls across the short distance between their two chairs and sinks to his knees in front of him. “Mish, what - “

“Shush now” Misha places both hands on Jensen's knees, rubbing them slowly up and down “Just relax Jen. Close your eyes and relax”

Jensen thinks he would have to be crazy to close his eyes now, but somehow he finds them slide shut against his will, lulled into a deep feeling of calm as Misha keeps up his litany of “Just relax Jen. Relax” with that voice of his. He breathes out in a shaky exhale when he feels Misha's thumbs rubbing against the insides of his thighs, every movement somehow amplified now that he has closed his eyes to feel as if Misha were tracing five points of burning heat up each of his legs.

“Mish, what -” Jensen tries again and sucks in a shocked breath at how low his voice has dipped.

Misha rumbles a laugh that Jensen can feel vibrating all around him but says nothing. Instead his hands travel further up his thighs and further up and -

“Oh” Jensen breathes, realization slowly dawning on him in which direction this seems to be going, and when long fingers come into contact with his zipper, the fire Misha has traced up and down his legs suddenly makes sense.

The rasp of his zipper being undone seems uncomfortably loud to Jensen, even over the roar of laughter drifting out from behind the curtains he seems to have forgotten about, and his fingers flex against the arm rests, tightly folding around the thin wooden strips.

“Hey hey, none of that” Misha suddenly whispers and taps his hands “What did I say about relaxing”

Jensen whines softly and peels his hands away from the arm rests to have them flop uselessly at his sides. “And you think this helps me relax you asshole?” He bites out once he recognizes the unmistakable flare of arousal deep in his gut.

Again Misha rumbles a laugh, this time though Jensen can feel it against the inside of his right thigh and then his fingers are back against his zipper. He pulls it open wide enough so he can reach inside and lightly brush the pads of his fingers over the slight bulge in Jensen's boxers a few times before dipping them inside the hole and finally ghosting them over the hot and silky skin he finds.

Jensen groans in frustration when Misha does nothing more than tease for what seems like an eternity.

When he opens his eyes for the first time since Misha sank to his knees minutes – hours – ago, he's greeted by brilliant blue, blinking coyly up at him from under dark lashes accompanied by a sly smirk. He raises a shaking hand and rests it atop Misha's head, carding it through dark locks while the other slides down the side of his face to cup his cheek.

It's funny, Jensen's lust addled brain thinks, he's never thought of Misha this way – on his knees in front of him, doing what he's going to do – but now that he has seen it, is close to experiencing it, he can't seem to think of anything else or of anyone else doing that to him. Just the image of Misha's lips wrapped tight around him seems seared into his memory and has him shaking ever so lightly in his seat, panting and whimpering softly until Misha has mercy on him and pulls him out.

For a second there is nothing more than the fleeting thought of where they are, that some one could see them, and a tingling sense of anticipation before there is glorious heat. Soft, damp, perfect heat that folds around him all at once and makes him want to burrow deeper into it and never leave. Jensen's head falls back and he bites his lips to try and stifle the groan he feels building up when Misha begins to move.

Misha withdraws slightly so only the crown of Jensen's cock rests between his lips and experimentally dips his tongue into the slit at the top, tasting the sharp tang of precome that burst across his taste buds at the action. It's nothing like anything he's ever tasted before, but Misha finds he doesn't mind it at all and dives back in. His lips wrap tight around Jensen and he slowly begins to move downwards sucking softly along the way, gripping what he can't reach with one hand while the other moves to Jensen's hip, rubbing soothing circles into the skin there. He sets up a steady pace, moving the tight seal of his lips up and down in time with his hand while Jensen's own hand twists into his hair, gripping tightly but not pulling yet.

“Mish, Mish – fuck” Jensen pants and involuntarily bucks his hips up hard when Misha pulls back again, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves just below the tip.

Misha pulls off with a quiet pop and smirks up at him, smoothing his hand up and down, up and down in place of his mouth and that makes Jensen's fingers in his hair tighten and try to guide him back down.

“Oh God, oh fuck, oh please don't stop” Jensen rambles and gives a hoarse cry as soon as he feels Misha's tongue on himself again. Misha – the bastard – hums against the side of his cock, mouthing down his length and pressing his grin against his hot, flushed skin when he feels Jensen tremble underneath him. His tongue traces the vein on the underside from his balls up to the tip and dips into the slit one last time before Misha's lips close around him once more.

Jensen can feel himself burning up inside, can feel the lightning arousal zing down his spine and he knows he won' t last long anymore. Not if Misha keeps sucking like that, smooth velvety lips stretched tight around him, cheeks hollowed out and that tongue tracing invisible patterns against him.

He looks down at his – friend seems a little wrong here – Misha – yes his Misha – in wonder and trails the tip of his index finger that still rests against Misha's cheek down his jaw before stiffening and pulling harshly at the strands of hair he has wrapped around his fingers in warning.

Misha just hums again and sucks that much harder when he feels Jensen go rigid beneath him. He sinks down as far as he can – which as of yet is not as far as he would like – and swirls his tongue. A low cry, another sharp tug against his hair and a halfhearted buck against the hold of his hands and Jensen comes in thick, hot spurts into his mouth. It tastes saltier, muskier and just more than the precome did before and he does his best to not miss a drop as he swallows around Jensen's cock one last time. Misha licks his lips, cleaning any traces of come from the corners of his mouth before he turns his attention back to Jensen's cock. He leans forwards and starts licking it clean with soft, kittenish swipes until all evidence of a recent orgasm has disappeared.

When he pulls off and looks up, the first thing he sees is Jensen's blissed out face; eyes screwed tightly shut and lips, slightly swollen from biting them, forming a silent O of astonishment. He feels out of breath, and so hard it's a miracle his own zipper hasn't burst yet.

Misha smiles to himself, surprised that he's enjoyed that spur of the moment decision as much as he has, carefully tucks Jensen's now soft cock back into his boxers and zips him back up.

“Uhm” Jensen sounds like he gargled gravel when he opens his eyes again and stares down at Misha.

“Yeah” Misha wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and braces himself on one of Jensen's knees. “So, you relaxed?”

Green eyes blink down at him before Jensen huffs a laugh. “Any more relaxed and I'd be a puddle, Mish”

“Good” Misha stands up “The Overlord takes care of his Minions”

Jensen rolls his eyes and after a moment they both use to regain their breath and composure, he tugs at the hem of his shirt in an adorably shy way, especially given what they'd just done.

“And uh … and who takes care of the Overlord?” He clears his throat and gestures a still shaking hand – as Misha is most satisfied to see – at the somewhat obvious tent in Misha's slacks.

“I'm sure something can be arranged”

Jensen blushes and pushes himself up, scratching at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah. Uh -”

“But first we've got a panel to crash” Misha grins and smooths his hands down the front of his shirt before striding to the side entry door.

Jensen just prays that none of the fangirls notice.


End file.
